When Inspector Smith walked into the briefing room, he found Bora with her feet propped up on the table, her flight suit unzipped to her stomach, and sucking on one of her sweet sticks that she habitually eat. Smith swore sometimes that she was as addicted to those things as some were addicted to their tobacco sticks, even when she was younger, she would always have a supply of those things on her.
"So can I go take a shower now," she said glaring at him as if it was his fault that she still stunk.
In a way, he knew that it was kind of his fault since he ordered her to be locked up in here instead of down in a holding cell where she could have hit the refresher. However, he wanted her in a secure area and away from any potential problems since at the time he wasn't completely sure what was going on. For all he knew she could have been smuggling in that new stuff 'Bliss' or some other contraband that she could have passed along to anyone in the holding area. Even thought she was never a drug runner or seller, some of the 'L-street' gang that she use to run with had and still do participate in these crimes. They could have easily talked her into doing the smuggling for them, especially "Bliss". Bliss had just been made illegal on Kidriff 5 but even before the law Bliss was expensive drug of choice and now with the added cost of smuggling, he was sure it would get even more expensive, both in the cost of the drug and in the cost of lives lost.
"We had to run a check on your story Bora," Smith said sitting down across from her at the table. He tried to give her the most reassuring expression he could muster and while it worked on 90 of the people he comes across it had never worked on Bora. He figured it just made her more suspicious when she noticed anyone being nice to her since it never happened. "I'm sure you can understand the need considering your past history with us."
"All I understand is the fact that I stink and I have to listen to Lt. Blinkie threaten to shoot me every few minutes."
"With an attitude like that are you surprised," Smith retorted dropping his politeness and shooting her a glare. "In a way I'm surprised that he hasn't shot you, especially since he knows you better then even I do."
"Oh yea, like he could hit the broadside of a moon," Bora said with a look of contempt on her face. Smith had always wondered how someone who was so pretty could wear such ugly expressions. "So are you convinced that I'm not a fugitive or anything like that or do I get a chance to make some calls of my own?"
"I called General Sinclair, other then passing on something about red bows; he did verify your story and paperwork."
"Wonderful," Bora said standing up, "then I'm out of here."
"Hold on for a second," Smith said motioning for her to take her seat. "I have to clear up a few things."
"Like what," Bora asked, arms crossed and staring daggers into him. "You said General Sinclair verified everything, what else do you need to know?"
"Lots of things Bora," Smith said motioning her to sit back down and giving her an evil smile, "we are old friends here, you and I. Don't you think it would be nice to reminisce about the good old days and swap stories about what has happened over the past couple years?"
"What you didn't get all those love notes I have sent to you," she said leaning down against the table, flashing him an evil smile of her own. She then swung back around in to her seat and propped her chin in her left hand. "As far as the good old days, do you mean how you used to pin all those horrible crimes on little old me?"
"Oh, you were guilty alright," Smith said, getting the feeling of dejavu as he spoke. It was as if the years had melted away and she was still just a trouble teen who had been hauled in for a minor refraction. "You just kept destroying the evidence before we got it to court."
"Or," she said right on cue as if they were playing a game, "there was no evidence because I never did all those things you thought I did. After all, I just happened to be very unlucky to keep ending up in the wrong place at the wrong time."
"At a warehouse at 3 in the morning?" Smith said, amazed at how comfortable this exchange felt, "and that warehouse just happened to have a shipment of 15 protocol droids turn up missing?"
"If I remember correctly," she said with such an innocent look on her face he wouldn't have been surprise if a halo pop on above her head, "there was only 13 droids missing. I wouldn't know the exact number, of course, just what I read in the news accounts. Besides, you know how protocol droids are; they probably got skittish and were so nervous they self-destructed. Maybe they were bored and decided to go for a walk or something, and got lost. You never did find them all, did you?"
"There were only 13 and no, we never did find out where you hid them," Smith said leaning back and glaring at her. "Amazing that you remember that, after all it has been about 6 years since that happened. Must be that superior intellect of yours." She popped her sweet stick in her mouth and gave him a sly but somehow smug smile. He knew from the many hours spend interviewing her that one of the few things she enjoyed the most was trying to out think her opponent. It wasn't like most of the children from that school who did it to prove how superior they were over the mere mortals around them; she took it as a competition, a way to increase her own skills and mental powers. When she did win and she got smug, it wasn't as if she felt that she was too good and he was so inferior. No, it was more like 'a job well done' smug. On those rare occasions when she did lose, she always took it good-naturedly. Life was a game to her and she enjoyed playing it well.
"You never found any of them that I hid because I never took any droids," she replied leaning back and affecting a disinterested pose. "Just like I never hit that bank over in the old mining section or the Ranador place or …"
"Well, yes that is true but I did connect you to the Kidriff import and export warehouse with, and my memory might be a little shady here, a R8 unit in tow."
"I was so surprised to find that droid following me," she exclaimed leaning forward and wearing her best 'who me' face, "I never even notice it until you showed up and was so kind to point it out to me. Here I thought you would be nice and help it find its way back home but no, you just had to jump to one of your crazy ideas that I was stealing it."
"Well now what do you supposed gave me that idea, Bora? Could it have been that special restraining bolt you had on it that made the droid follow your commands, the fact that you were loading it into a truck or was it the fact that you, the truck and the droid were all still in the warehouse when I caught you?"
"You know something; you never did tell me how you knew that I might have been in that area on that particular night?"
"I know I'm not as smart as you are, Bora, but I not stupid enough to tell you how I knew either. I need some kind of advantage against you." The truth had been more of a lucky guess then anything else. In the six years that she committed over 200 thefts, that they could tie to her and the gang she ran with but not prove, many of them were places most likely chosen by her 'L' street gang leader. However, the few independent jobs that she did had no visible connection to her and were hit so smoothly that it was often weeks later before they were discovered.
All of her independent jobs had only been discovered when the companies in questions had computers systems melt down, shipment sent to the Corporate Sector instead of Bakura, or just disappear all together; all this added up to millions of credits lost. It had her prints all over it but they couldn't get enough information to charge her, she had no obvious pattern to follow nor did any of the companies have any noticeable connections to each other. At least until he found an obscured reference about two of the places had both made large, but not so large to be flashy, contributions to the very school that she attended. That had been the missing factor, but it was still too transparent to have his superiors back him up on his plan to catch her. Therefore, on his own time he set out to run surveillance on various potential targets. After several months, his hard work had paid off handsomely with the arrest of Bora, caught red handed in the act.
Even though she was given a stiff penalty, she was allowed to roam free before her sentencing. This is how she ended up beating some guy within millimeters of his life after he made a move on her. That crime is what got her thief charge suspended and shipped out to the military.
"Oh come on, I'm not a criminal," she said rolling her eyes, "besides I have been pardoned for any crimes that I never committed."
"No, you received pardons for all and any known crimes," Smith said stressing the 'known' part. Then he softened his stances and voice a bit, "but I have to say I'm glad that you have done so well in the military. I always figured you had what it takes to make it, Bora. Besides I never believed that you try to kill you squad for not sleeping with you." He saw Bora's quizzical expression and elaborated for her. "When they contacted us about your history here, I repeatedly stressed that while you were a thief and a con, you had a rather violent streak against anyone who tried to have sex with you. I also stressed that they should look more closely at your story. I have to say I was very pleased to see that you were able to beat that charge."
"You really mean that, don't you?"
"Of course I do," Smith said with no small amount of pride, "I serve justice Bora. Had they told me that you were involved in smuggling or crime cartel, I would have helped them lock you away without a second thought. However, getting revenge because you were turn down for sex," Smith slowly shook his head. "No, that is not your style; I figured you were being set up."
"My lawyer told me that you were speaking up in my defense, I guess I should look him up and apologized for calling him a liar." Bora said squirming in her seat looking embarrassed, "I guess I owe you an apology too, Inspector."
"No need," Smith said waving it away, "if anything you can repay me by staying out of trouble while you are here."
"I'm reformed now," she said in a mock-exasperated tone, then she grimaced as she added, "besides nothing you could do would be worst them my boss would do to me if I get in trouble."
"Speaking of your boss, what unit are you assigned to," Smith asked, "everyone I talked to either didn't know or refused to tell me."
"Err, yea," Ratnena said sitting up straight and looking embarrass again, "about that, my unit and job is sort of classified. As well as the terms of my parole, any citations and awards I received since then and the reasons behind my pardons."
"Well, that does make it harder for me to verified any information on you," Smith said softly.
"Tell me about it, the first decent thing I have done in my life and I can't tell anyone about it!"
"Just you kind of luck Bora," Smith said with a small sigh, "since the information that I do have is in your favor I have no reason to hold you anymore. However, I would like you to do me a favor." When she nodded her head, he told her about the virus that she had let lose in their computer and if she could fix the problem before she left.
"Ha! I knew that idiot would do something like that," Bora said sounding surprised but had a self-satisfying smirk as if she assumed he would try something like that, "I told him those chips were classified materials and not to mess with them but does he listen? No, of course not that would take brains, which he has none!"
"That is not important right now," Smith said while secretly agreeing with Bora about Lt. Fern. Their short history together has done nothing to improve his opinion of that school. "What is important is that our systems are secured."
"Sure no problem," she said standing up and stretching, "I need Little Brother; he has the counter program in him. I also need a hot shower and not necessarily in that order."
Before Smith could answer, a blood-curling scream came from the passageway. Swearing softly under his breath, he turned and bolted from the room. He was sure he knew what was causing those screams, he has heard a lot of them lately and they are never a good sign. Sure enough, at the end of the passageway, in the lobby of the building for this floor, there were four security officers wrestling with a young woman. All four guards were in great shape, truly the textbook example of the perfect human female and male forms, and she was obvious was a drug user, so skinny that her veins and bones showed through her skin, dirty, looking far older then her true age, but she was winning the battle.
"BLISS, GIVE ME MY BLISS!" The woman screamed as she threw on of the male officers into a desk. "I NEED THE GODS VOICE, GIVE ME MY BLISS!"
Without second thought, Smith jumped into the fray. The woman's voice and fight increased as the seconds crawl by, Smith watch helplessly as a second officer bounced off a wall. He was able to pin one of her arms as Lt. Fern showed up out of nowhere with a stun baton. He repeatedly struck her on the base of the neck, trying to get her spine to lose control of her body but was as effective as they were at holding her down. The blows were so close and so strong that Smith's body was reacting to them but the woman no more noticed them as a Wookie would from a punch from a Rant.
"Hit her with that thing," one of the officers screamed to be heard over the woman.
"I'm, I have it at full power," Lt. Fern screamed back. Smith swore, that meant she was in the last stage of addiction, the end was soon and it wouldn't be pretty. He started to lose his grip on her arm, as he readjusted he half wished she would stop struggling and half wishing that she never did.
"Bea, Bea," someone shouted as they helped Smith with her arm, "calm down Bea!"
Smith glanced over and saw it was Ratnena Bora who had helped him.
"I NEED TO HEAR THE GODS! I NEED TO HEAR THE GODS! I NEED MY," in mid-rant the addict's muscles all constricted at the same moment. She went stiff so fast, so completely, that Smith could swear he heard her spinal cord crumble under the strain. As suddenly as they constricted, all her muscles went limp and she collapsed as if she was no more then a bag of jell-o.
Smith released her as one of the officers called for the medics to the floor. Ratnena Bora slowly back up, her eyes wide as she watch the body lay limp on the ground.
"What the Sith happed to her?"
"That is a Bliss addict in the finial stages of addiction," Fern said, for once not sounding condescending. "It is very nasty stuff."
"Did you know her, Bora?" Smith said catching his breath.
"Yea, her name is Bea Strummer, she ran with the 'L' street gang."
"She gets too sloppy with her product, do you think?" Fern asked, sounding slightly disgusted.
"No," Bora said shaking her head, not reacting to Fern's tone at all, "she was a thief but she never ran drugs. At least when I knew her, she didn't sell or use them. She might have changed but considering how much she complained about some of them running spice I have a hard time believing that she would change her mind."
"Bliss is good money," Smith said watching her closely. The medics had finally arrived to take care of Bea Strummer. "You would be surprise at what it can do to someone."
"Maybe," Bora said, not sounding convinced. She then tore her gaze away from her old friend and face Smith squarely. "Either way, she would never use drugs. She used to give me the lecture for even smoking tobacco till I quit!" She then turned back and watched her friend be taken away, "can they do anything for her?"
Smith and Fern exchanged glances; even Fern heard the hope in her voice and didn't really want to crush it.
"She just got cured," Smith said, hoping that she would either get it on her own or just assume she will be ok and drop it.
"I see," Bora said quietly after a few minutes, "I guess she did, hard to be an addict when you are dead."
